


Venom

by Sternflocken



Category: Loki - Fandom, Thor (Movies), Thor - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Asgard, Dark, Dark Magic, Fantasy, Implied Mpreg, Jotunn Loki (Marvel), Jötunheimr | Jotunheim, Light Angst, M/M, Magic, Mpreg, Prince Thor (Marvel), Racist Language, Rape/Non-con Elements, Thorki - Freeform, Thunderfrost - Freeform, Violence, War, War Crimes, Witch Loki, Witchcraft, the good the bad and the dirty...ahm...evil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 16:11:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16579805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sternflocken/pseuds/Sternflocken
Summary: He had hoped for a far more fetching price. But this one is for sure the most thrilling to wreck. Not even handsome. Not attractive at all. Not to the slightest pleasing the eye of an Aesir warrior-prince who could take the fairest maidens with just the snap of his fingers. But he wants this one. For the taking. For the breaking. For thrusting the last glint of spiteful honor out of this house. Just because he can.- Thor is evil. Loki not less so. Jötunheim is cold and rough and ugly and ...see yourself...





	Venom

**Author's Note:**

> nothing to do with the movie Venom, but all with [ the song by Bullet for my Valentine](https://open.spotify.com/track/0DfRNaeaJaKoTepzMQIxtg?si=lA6fZJa7QqqFl1ri-0gfVw%22) and an article in a magazine about "the evil" I found on my way to the concert ^^'' 
> 
> So there's also a [ playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/user/yuananas/playlist/2k4j4IwCEFjEFzd24GCAm5?si=zWHe66e9T7-0WtWor3Id7g) to this.

Jötunheim is rough, cold and ugly. Thor finds the Jötnar not less so. Rough, cold and ugly savages, worthy of every fallen man, worthy of every defiled trull, worthy of every burnt down village. Laufey and his sons are nothing but worthy of bowing before him, worthy of being put in irons, watching his brave Aesir warriors feast on the meager prosperities, the stodge they call food and the unsightly creatures they call woman. They wanted battle. They got war. 

Thor carries a smug grin at the sight of the king, his princes and warriors, defeated. Close to bursting with hate and rage they are held back by mighty dwarf crafted chains, not able to move against him, as he strides along the row of his prisoners of war, indulging in their fury and despair. Mjölnir rests in his hand, ready to end the pitiful life before him with just one swift blow. But oh he won’t grant to them such glorious redemption of a quick death.  
No, he’s not interested in slaughtering them. Their roaring and curses and struggling merely amuse him. He has already won this war. What he longs for is to take everything. Take for the sake of taking. Torture for the sake of torturing. To violate even the last bit of dignity they feel in their damned hearts. Just because he can.  
“Silence!” His thunderous call resounds through inglorious halls of ice and stone as his gaze meets a curiously different one. Lank. Calm. Standing in the shadows of his vast, rioting brothers but upright, proud with entirely displaced defiance in his eyes. Hung with golden trinket and opulent furs, he’s got to belong to Laufey’s children. He remembers. The one who was bold enough to go at him with poisoned daggers. Attacking from out of nowhere. Skillful. Imprudent. Leaving a burning slash that refuses to heal like other wounds.  
“What’s your name?” Thor spits at him. The Jötunn’s holding his gaze.  
“Why should the wolf care for the name of his prey?” he answers calmly. Dangerously impertinent.  
“Answer your defeater!” Thor roars and the flash of a smile hushes over the Jötunn’s lips.  
“I am Loki, Prince of Jötunheim, Laufeyson.” Thor hears Laufey growl at the last word. The leper. Even he has heard of the despised prince. “Does this do as an answer, oh mighty Thor, Prince of Asgard, Odinson. Ravisher.”  
Thor merely snarls at such audacity, turning his back at the defiant king’s son, continuing his stroll along the arcades of defeated foes, before he spins, unforeseeably, wielding Mjölnir and within the blink of an eye the hammer aims at the sturdy head of the pert Jötunn prince, ready to crush his haughty smile just to stop a hair’s breadth before smashing his skull and to return to Thor’s outstretched hand. Not even the twitch of an eye. The next moment Thor’s hand is at Loki’s throat, finally wresting a slight flinch from him.  
“I will wipe that impudent smile off your face, Laufeyson. Learn your place.” He growls, staring threatening into blood red eyes that still don’t show the slightest trace of fear, not even as he drags this unworthy critter with him, followed by the eager eyes of his warriors and hateful glares of the defeated Jötnar. He had hoped for a far more fetching price. But this one is for sure the most thrilling to wreck. Not even handsome. Not attractive at all. Not to the slightest pleasing the eye of an Aesir warrior-prince who could take the fairest maidens with just the snap of his fingers. But he wants this one. For the taking. For the breaking. For thrusting the last glint of spiteful honor out of this house. Just because he can. No one will stop him and he knows, despite the disgrace he will cast upon the house of Laufey, no one will even try saving the despised prince. The youngest. The smallest. The miserable sight of a Frost Giant.  
The eager looks tower into roaring laughter as he hauls his prey along and Thor feels thrills of excitement running down his spine, gathering the eagerness in his middle. 

When Thor takes him, it’s with the roaring laughter of his warriors following them. It’s to the detorted screams of defiled maidens and tortured valets resounding from the walls of the icy castle. It’s with merciless sobriety. It’s throwing Loki to his knees, violently grabbing these garbling horns, stuffing this skillful dirty mouth, making him choke on his own impertinence. It’s yanking him up on golden necklaces, pushing his ugly face against the walls of harsh rock while thrusting into a body far from being as intractable as Thor had expected. It’s nearly snapping the Jötunn’s neck when he brutally pulls long black hair, coarse, more like hair of horses than of a desirable woman.  
And it’s Loki enduring it. Choking, gagging but enduring. Such unyieldingness is infuriating the warrior-prince! His will is whipped to break this stubborn creature, but nothing he does takes away this haughty smile of Loki, when he feels Thor climaxing. Nothing stops Loki from rolling his hips or arching his back to meet the conqueror’s thrusts. The Jötunn is even laughing madly when Thor bites his tongue as this tricky beast uses a dangerously inattentive moment to throw his still chained hands over Thor’s head, pulling him closer with arms wrapped around his neck, stealing a kiss, smuggling his cold, wicked tongue between rough lips.  
A bruised, broken body hosting a far too stubborn spirit is finally left on the floor of Laufey’s chambers, while the glorious warrior-prince lays to rest in the defeated king’s bed. 

 

When Thor awakes, it’s to a numbing silence. A stillness that’s dripping from icy walls, pinioning his limps and creeping into his mind. Died away are war cries and the racket of battles. Died away are screams and laughter of violently feasting victory. Died away are the agonized roars of rage from their prisoners. Thor can only assume lives have been taken last night. Serves them right. When Thor opens his eyes, it’s to cold darkness. It’s always cold and dark here, in this icy waste of Jötunheim. But within the shadows there are blood red eyes staring at him, gleaming. A slender creature fluently gets up from its place on the floor, moving an elegantly swaying body over to the bed, where the Aesir prince rises abruptly, terror-stricken, stretching out his hand for his mighty weapon.  
“My… you won’t need this…” Loki lulls with a voice like velvet, golden trinkets jingling with every move, though many of them lose, ripped apart. Thor feels his body tensing, his heart beating furiously. Why does this blue, leathery skin look so tempting, all of a sudden? Why do his fingers grave to explore the shimmering lines, graven all over the exposed body? Why is he drawn to this dark lips, halting just a few centimeters before him, when Loki’s climbing the bed, his scent of ice and blood and war numbing Thor’s every clear thought. “What… have you done… witch?” he hisses, breathless, before cold lips meet his. “I can do so much more of it…” Loki smiles against trembling lips that open for his wicked tongue far too willingly, when Thor just gives in to caressing touches and a subtle whisper. “Just take me…”

 

Asgard is warm and golden and pompous when it’s welcoming Thor and his warriors back after months and months of battles and after-war trials. The Aesir are greeting their war heroes back with rejoicing and embraces. But the noble house of Asgard finds itself startled over an unknown creature following their shining prince like a shadow. Blue and barefoot it is, with horns and long black hair protruding off a hooded, golden cloak. Splendid, dainty wrought and concerningly resembling a bridal veil, it’s hiding the Jötunn’s face but fails to hide blood red glowing eyes and the bulging belly it embraces with carefully shielding arms…

**Author's Note:**

> So what about a little turning everyone evil...including myself... gone the good girl I thought I am... Nevermind...  
> And this doesn't even have anything to do with the fic I actually am working on, but it demanded to be written! Loki made me do it?^^''
> 
>  
> 
> ~~Also: I like the term “Aesir”. I’m still not quite sure how to use it. Actually it just refers to a part of the Gods of the Northern mythology, right?. Not even all of the Gods that are located in Asgard. And it’s plural. And not really usable as an adjective? I’ve got the feeling often it’s used for the whole people of Asgard? Or like we use… dunno… “German” or “Japanese”. You can say “The German prince” when you want to point out the prince is from Germany. Or belongs to a certain group of people. Or “Japanese food”. I kind of like to use “Aesir” this way^^ It would probably be more correct to use “Asgardian” for this but I like the sound of “Aesir” more than “Asgardian”. So does anyone know more about how to use these terms? And may explain that to me?~~  
>  **update: I guess I slowly get the hang on that!^^**
> 
>  
> 
> (I'm also always open for corrections, since English isn't my first language...)
> 
> And last but not least: thank you for reading!


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